


To Kill a Blue Jay

by FlametheSeraph



Series: Marble Hornets: Fairytales [3]
Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: 1980s, 2010s, Alex and Brian are college age, Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Hoarding struggles, I don't know how I surmised this from to kill a mocking bird, Jay & Tim are in their 50's, M/M, Magical Bullshit, Not Really Character Death, Past Character Death, Past Internalized Homophobia, There are two Brian's you'll see, grumpy and soft dad energy, the rest are kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlametheSeraph/pseuds/FlametheSeraph
Summary: Alex Kralie is a college freshman who is often stuck chaperoning his younger brother, Seth, and his friend group, self-dubbed "The Hornet's Nest". In their quaint little neighborhood sits a creepy, dark, boarded up house on the corner, where lives a "grumpy old man" who "eats children for breakfast".Halloween night, however, reveals their are more concerning things lurking in the dark than a hermited neighbor.
Relationships: Alex Kralie/Brian Thomas | Hoody, Jay Merrick/Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky
Series: Marble Hornets: Fairytales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933222
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	To Kill a Blue Jay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a thing I've been working on where basically Tim and Jay were monster Hunters back in the 80's, and in modern days, Tim is that stereotypical grumpy man that lives in the supposed haunted house. The idea originally began when I thought "What about ... Boo Radley, but Tim." Though I promise the stories nothing like To Kill a Mockingbird  
> It's still in the works, but I was too excited to keep it to myself so here's a prologue.  
> I also thought it would be funny if Tim were an old man chasing kids off his lawn with a cane

_["I remember ... I looked upon an odd smile. Yellow teeth and red gums so built up with plaque I may as well have begged them to at least lick them clean. They were, however, properly aligned, but slightly lengthened, their ends coming into points curved on its edges. Like shark teeth - but not the great white kind, perhaps a smaller, more needly shark … like a lemon shark! (Not as small as I previously believed) The color of lemons! Enough about teeth - you know I want to be an investigator one day Tim - I have to list over every little detail so I notice it in the most crucial of moments! Anyway-"]_ The video ends abruptly as the tape film becomes jammed in the player, until he's smashing the eject button over and over. "Damn thing-" He ends up unplugging the machine and fiddling with a screwdriver to dig the tape out. 

Once free, he treats the film like spider silk, unraveling it gently and stretching it out on the dining table with all the other ruined films he was trying to repair. 

_{It was more like hoarding however}_

He would never finish a project he started, but never throw out any of the rolls. He never threw out anything if he could manage it, even expressed a deep guilt throwing out normal trash items. 

_{Because he's throwing out_ **_him_** _}_

He has an old fashioned record player that came with the house. Right now, it's playing some vinyls. 70's or 80's. He's lost track. It's a pleasant song, adding a little life to the boarded, dusty wooden cave. The dusty carpet. The dusty floors. The dusty red velvet chair. The dusty books. The dusty junk stacked on desks and tables in every corner. The dusty curtains which serve no purpose - the windows are boarded up. One pull light switch works in each room. Paint drops speckle the floor because no one had cared to protect it. The banister on the staircase might rip off if he puts too much weight on it. 

He fixes another cassette into the player, and let's the bulbous tv burst with static, before playing the tape.

 _["Hey - Hey Tim, smile for the camera." "Stop." A young dark-haired man paws a hand away from his hair, their smiles genuine and unburdened. "Today is Tim's 25th birthday and he wasn't going to tell me about it! Well shame on him - it's Christmas Eve so, obviously, we've got a good bottle of peppermint schnapps." "For the record, I hate Christmas." "Yeah sure you do, and we got a present for him!" "I'm not opening it." "Yes you are, I paid almost 50 bucks on this." "We don't have that money-!" "Don't worry your butt off, I've been saving for it, out of my breakfast money."_ ] 

The man's cane is rested against the armrest, as he sinks into the plush, broken-in chair. He mouths every word, every sound in the recording.

 _["Jay … I … I don't know what to say…" The birthday boy delicately holds a gleaming, rose engraved knife. "It's enchanted too, I know you lost one of your best knives to that Manticore-" "Yeah and about a pint of blood." "Yes yes that too, it's enchanted, can slice through just about anything."]_ He pauses it right there, as the man recording comes on screen. Tired eyes, tired smile. But still _his_ smile. Warm, like sitting in a car while it rains, sharing each other's heat as they talk about some crappy joke. He looks at the dark-haired man, well rested, but rarely ever smiling, rarely twitching his lips. _{Doesn't know there's a clock ticking}_ He'd memorized every detail, every pixel in these videos, reconstructing the memories over and over until he can live each day in his fantasy world, staying frozen in time. The man becomes near violent when someone tries to disturb him or his abode. Steal him away from the past. From the world he wants to spend his lifetime in. 

A world _before_ everything went wrong.

It is December 24th, 2014.

Tim Horton's 50th birthday.

He blows out the candle on his soggy cake slice, playing with the knife in his other hand, polishing and cleaning for constant perfection.

A well-lived, many-stained coffee table holds Jay's cake slice on a white porcelain plate, candle still burning. Burning. Melting. The wax drips into the frosting, liquidizing that too. He stares at the orange flame, until it's reached the end of its wick, smoking out with a wispy trail, his face receding into the darkness.

_"Happy Birthday."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to integrate more ... Thingamabobs so this fic will sometimes utilize [ for tape stuff ] and { for deep inner thoughts Tim doesn't want to acknowledge }
> 
> I also keep trying to work on "show not tell" because I'm used to writing for my brother to understand, as it's hard for him to visualize stuff, needs to be told straight what the characters are thinking or feeling. I'm trying to break that habit.


End file.
